Pride & Destiny
by chickinwhite
Summary: End of Season 1 - And the beginning of an unexpected future for two sworn enemies, who have to learn faith in each other while trying to survive in a hostile world...
1. Prologue

PRIDE AND DESTINY

Im Juni 2014

PROLOG

It was late afternoon and soft sun-rays put a golden shimmering light onto the clearance. First shadows already lurked between the rocks promising nightfall was near. It was that time of the day when birds fell silent, searching their hideouts for the night; when their melodic chirping gave way to that expectant quietness before the creatures of the night would wake from their sleep to put their noses into the winds and go for the hunt...

Kahlan couldn´t help that slight shiver that run down her back.

Right now, in this very moment this place seemed to hold an elusive air of peace. But it stood in stark contrast to what she felt...

Chewing on her lip unconsciously, her eyes swept along the rocky walls behind her companions, nervously searching for something she wasn´t even able to name.

It had been this exact constellation that had caused the men to chose this place to realize their plans: a small open space, more than half a league distance from the next road; tightly embraced by gruff rocks, leaving but a small opening at one side where the ground tumbled into an abyss that was gaping like an open mouth.

Richard and Zedd had thoroughly checked every corner of the clearance. Zedd had mumbled all the time and had waved his hands now and then to send faint slivers of magic into the air to prove some particular spots; and finally they had agreed that this place indeed offered the needed safety they had been looking for.

Here, where no unwanted surprises were to be expected... in this peaceful spot... they could bring it to an end...

This was the place where the Power of Orden would be released.

Kahlan watched the men thoughtfully. Richard and Zedd seemed to feel completely at ease. There lay not the slightest hint of doubts in Richard´s moves while he prepared for the moment of power, all along Zedd was staying close to him, repeatedly nodding to his grandson´s words with his face stern and focused.

As her gaze settled on the Seeker Kahlan suddenly felt awfully alone with her own nagging feelings: troubled, concerned, yes, scared even... These two men who she loved so dearly didn´t seem to even understand her worries.

But the very thought of what lay ahead had put a lump in her throat; though her mind told her again and again that the men were right.

Her eyes searched the old wizard. He felt like a grandfather to her. During this year that had passed since she had found a crazy old man standing naked in the moonlight with nothing but a chicken to cover himself, she had come to trust his notions, to appreciate his experience of life...

So she had listened to Zedd´s long and winding reasoning; he had done his best to soothe her, had talked to her in a calming voice and his words had been brimming with wisdom and confidence. He had admonished her to put all her faith into Richard; who was the Seeker of Truth; who surely knew what had to be done...

She huffed a little. And Richard himself?

_Oh dear spirits!_

Kahlan smiled faintly as her eyes locked with his brown and tender warm gaze as he watched her.

If need be..., most probably she would follow him blindly into the underworld; He was the one person in this world whom she trusted with her life... !

And yet...

There was this anxiety that tried to crawl up in her belly; this perfidious pull somewhere deep in her insides... It felt slightly familiar but she hated to name it... Her smile froze without her knowledge.

Angst!

It wasn´t much more than a queasy feeling; like the idea of a storm growling from afar, somewhere behind the horizon of her mind. Yet, she felt it was close, threatening to erupt into full force at any moment, to lunge at her and engulf her mind if only she allowed herself a weakness...

Kahlan swallowed. Her eyes were glued to the man who already knelt in front of the rock that should serve them as a table. And whose warm, brown eyes searched hers just now with a gentle smile. Emanating so much confidence that it almost caught her breath.

How could he be so composed?

How could he trust in her abilities, when all she felt was the urgent need to run?

How could he so self-evidently lay his sword aside and smile at her as if nothing would ever be able to harm them?

She felt her own trembling uncertainty tie her throat up as she watched Richard putting two of the boxes together, regarding them with curious fascination; like a child regarding its treasures. There was a small void that waited for the third, the last of the boxes. To Kahlan it almost seemed as if she could feel the breath of magic lying in the air, hovering over the boxes like any living essence.

Richard´s eyes found hers again and locked with her gaze. He smiled and nodded encouragingly. And she knew he was ready. There was nothing she could do now to convince him otherwise. Despite all her doubts and her fears, it was long since decided. He would do what he thought must be done. And even Kahlan wouldn´t be able to hold him back now.

Kahlan threw a last glance to Zedd; half hoping he would suddenly stand up and forbid his grandson´s plans. But she found him leaning calmly against a rock behind Richard and wink at her with his thin smile. And finally she surrendered with a deep sigh and went down on her knees in front of the Seeker. Fleetingly her gaze swept along the rocks in Richard´s back, and just as fleetingly she sensed the shiver that seemed to crawl up from the abyss in her own back, breathing an eerie touch along her spine, settling on her shoulders, dark and heavily...

Alone, there was no time to reconsider her decision. With a quick move Richard had pulled the third box and now placed it confidently into the gap between the others. And immediately the Power of Orden roared to life.

Kahlan had no choice. Her hand found its way to the Seeker´s throat and with a low moan she lowered the walls and unleashed the power of her love.

Her gaze got caught with Richard´s and all at once she could feel the world retreat. She could feel the overwhelming power of the ancient magic as it run rampant from the circle of the boxes and took hold of his mind. His eyes seemed illuminated. She stared into them while her own power roared against the magic and she gasped as she felt it fusing with the Power of Orden. She sensed Richard´s mind rear up, filled with the sudden impact of the Orden´s might and all the same she could feel how the ancient magic grudgingly slowed to finally bow to her own Power; to be tamed by the overwhelming sway of her love.

Between two heartbeats her surroundings faded into nothing more than shadows, dunked into hushed mists. Richard´s face, glowing from inside out, was the only perceivable sign of life that lasted in her mind. Nothing else existed any more...

Nothing...

Until, out of the nowhere, a sudden pain exploded in her neck and filled every fiber of her being; a pain that was not comparable to anything she had ever experienced before. Kahlan squirmed in a silent howl. Her lungs seemed to collapse; they refused their work; she panted for air. In her back, right between her shoulders, there was a fire burning...

She tried desperately to fight the panic, tried to keep her focus on Richard´s face. She felt strangled but refused to give in, tried hard to stay strong, to ignore the pain that now blazed through every bone in her back and reached for her mind.

_SPIRITS_!

She needed to hold on! Not for her own life she would give up on Richard now. Everything depended on her not to lose him...

Her grip around his throat grew desperate... Faintly she heard someone yell a "Noooooo...!"

And than, with a sudden whirl, the world went black and she drowned in the heaving waves of pain that filled her mind...


	2. Chapter 1

**As usual: Nothing of LotS belongs to me(such a pity!) - no business, just fanfun!**

**AN: **Thank you all for the kind words and the warm welcome ! There is nothing as motivating for a writer as the comments their readers leave to let them know their work is appreciated! ;)

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**Chapter 1**

Kahlan winced and groaned as she slowly came around and then gasped for air.

She needed a moment, struggling against the ponderosity that lay on her lids like lead. Against the biting pain, its echos still raging under her skin; greedily tearing at her consciousness like a starving wolf...

Only tediously her brain started working.

It was cold.

Hard, cold stone dig into her bones where she lay sprawled on the ground; and in her neck there was still this nagging feeling of a dark threat, so near, that her hackles started raising even before she turned her head. There was still a shadow lurking behind her, ready to lunge at her...

Something had happened. Something had gone terribly wrong! It had dragged her away from Richard...

_- Richard! -_

She jerked into an upright position, wheezing with the pang that shot through her muscles, but warily scanning her surroundings with squinted eyes while her hands fumbled for her daggers.

The attack came in a sudden, but after all not unexpected rush - there was a low cracking, like of a withered twig breaking under a swift step – and in a split second Kahlan came to her feet, jerking her arms up with her daggers crossed to block the strike and immediately countering and in turn attacking her foe with all her strength.

Violently the two women clashed.

The Mord Sith attacked quickly and decidedly; and with a catlike litheness that made it nearly impossible to anticipate her next moves. Not yet recovered from the effort of taming the Power of Orden, Kahlan found herself hassled with such an amount of savage ferocity that she slowly but inevitably lost ground. The strikes of an agiel combined with a hitting fist and whirling boots rained down on her mercilessly and it took all her strength to avoid the cruelest pain and block the arm of the blonde warrior. In a quick lunge she managed to slice a bloody trail into the red leather that covered the arm of her foe, but the Mord Sith barely slowed down, sneering at her with bluish green, hateful eyes. Only to rush forward again as if fueled by the pain she felt and the blood that trickled.

Soon Kahlan panted heavily. At least she caught the opportunity to flash in a wheel with her boot coming up, trying desperately to kick the agiel out of her foe´s hand. But the Mord Sith countered her whirl adroitly, blocking her supporting leg. And in the following moment she would have brought Kahlan down – if it had not been for a club that hit the blonde´s shoulder in this exact moment and knocked her down with her face distorted in a mixture of pain and angry surprise . The Confessor could hear her harsh groan as she turned to face the new attacker.

From behind the Mord Sith Kahlan saw a few men appearing and hurling themselves into the fight and for a fleeting moment she breathed a sigh of relief, feeling something like appreciation for the Creator´s intervention. Though it didn´t last for much more than a second...

At the sight of an ax, preparing to come down on her, she quickly found she had come out of the frying pan into the fire... This was no daring rescue!

Wherever these men had come from, they were bloodthirsty and dangerous! Foes! And obviously not only aiming to kill the Mord Sith but the Confessor too...

Kahlan reacted out of instinct. In a quick move she threw a dagger against the man with the ax and though she knew she hadn´t aimed well she heard the satisfying sound of his shout of pain, while, with a wet thud, her second dagger found its home in the brawny chest of another attacker and while his dead body still slumped down she ripped her weapon out of him. From the corner of her eyes she saw the tall man who had wielded the ax turn away from the fighting and grabbing the boxes hastily; and in the next moment he vanished into the shadows of the trees...

_Spirits, no! He has the Boxes of Orden!_

The Confessor shot a quick glance around, seeing the Mord Sith still detracted by two other men, and secured by that she reeled to search for the thief.

_The Boxes of Orden! _

Kahlan couldn´t allow him to escape! The Boxes were too precious; and too dangerous to be put into the wrong hands...

She didn´t hesitate any longer. She quickly dodged another adversarial strike, resolutely dragging her blade across the bastard´s throat in a flowing motion and then sprinted away into the shadows on the thief´s heels...

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Kahlan followed the guy for quite a while. The stranger seemed to be in a hurry, given to the fact that he didn´t waste any time to duck or run for cover. He seemed oblivious to the possibility that he could be followed.

After what seemed to Kahlan a little more than a league he finally slowed down and the Confessor detected a small camp in a little distance. The burning fire lightened a few makeshift bivouacs. Carefully she stalked closer, quietly cursing as she barely found some cover with her white garb shining between the trees. It took a lot of her skills to sneak up on the men. But at last she found herself pressing into the shadow of an old, half withered minie, just twenty steps beside the fire to get a picture of her foes.

Her brows furrowed at the sight of the tattered bedrolls that lay ducked into the shadows of some rocks; nothing but a few bundles of dirty rags seemed to be their covers for the night.

At the fire sat two more men, both in an almost deplorable condition: their clothes were filthy rags, torn and haggled and dangling from their haggard bodies. Only one of them owned shoes, but they seemed to be remnants of better times. Now they looked as if they had been walked for years and thousands of leagues through the Midlands given to the gaping holes in their feet. The other one had wrapped his right ankle with a frazzle; its grey-brown color was sprinkled with dots that reminded Kahlan of old rust. She assumed it was blood, and it seemed to be from a wound that still pained the man. She saw him limping as he rose now. Apparently his face hadn´t seen any water nor soap for quite some time; a scraggy beard proliferated untamed on his face and the stench of body-odor and bottom shelf liquor hung heavily in the air.

The Confessor ducked warily into the shadow behind the tree and listened closely to the short and rather cantankerous greeting the thief received as he stepped into the firelight. The man from whose behavior Kahlan assumed him to be he leader of this tattered group, was tall and coarse, and apparently very huffy. He showed yellow teeth as he snarled, angrily looking the thief over.

"Where are Jeff and the others?"

The thief didn´t seem to be daunted that easily. He was just as tall as the leader, a little younger in age and, as far as one could judge under all the filth, he could probably be called handsome somehow. He grinned and gave a careless shrug.

"They´ve met some skirts on the way..."

Their leader growled peevily. "Arrghh...Damned pack!" He scowled at his companion. " Chasing after every wench like the Keeper´s chasing after souls... As if we hadn´t better things to do. I do pray the Keeper get these sons of a bitch finally..." He huffed audibly before eying the thief sternly.

"Now c´me over here and lemme see! What did you get?" He grabbed the bundle from the thief and began rummaging through its insides, dragging out piece after piece of the thief´s loot.

Kahlan watched as a bread appeared in his hands and fell to the ground, followed by an oil lamp. Next came an ax, whose handle was so scuffed it was shining greasily in the light of the flames. Some more items which she didn´t recognize flew out. And finally, when the man turned the bag and shook it, the three Boxes of Orden tumbled to the ground.

The bulky man mustered the items with a deep frown on his face, kicking in the dirt and then picking up the bread, turning around to face his fellow and shaking it intimidatingly before his eyes. The thief winced a little.

"What do you think you´ve brought? Do you call such crud a loot?" His voice grew louder and he shook the bread more vividly.

"This here won´t last for the next 2 days! And the lamp..." he kicked said lamp into the dust. It made an empty, clanging noise. "...hasn´t enough oil to lighten up even this fucking night! A damned dunce you are! Can you tell me how we shall explain your failure to them when we reach the fox den? We can´t hope to hunker down there if we come with empty hands!" He huffed and kicked at the Boxes. Kahlan held her breath, praying he wouldn´t by hazard do something to bring the Boxes together. But he didn´t care for the Boxes any longer: "Fucking trinkets these are!"

Shaking his head he growled again.

"So you bloody idiots don´t know better then to chase after skirts..."

The thief harrumphed and straightened a little as he shrugged apologetically.

"Yeaahh... Why,... these bitches weren´t just any ordinary harlots, Mart! They´ve fought us! Like real fucking soldiers. No!... No, wait; like... like any bitchy furies! I swear! They´ve been like rabid bitches, yeah, that´s how they attacked us! I´ll be damned, that´s what happened! Look! Can you see that? One of them pinched me with her knife, a damned big fucking knife ..." He paused and presented a trickling line of blood on his left shoulder, a nice little souvenir from Kahlan´s dagger.

The Confessor smiled gleefully.

"I vamoosed right in time, Mart; I swear! Jeff and Pete were already lying in the mud. Bet they´re dead by now." He grinned. Obviously not bemoaning his companions in the slightest. He felt content that he himself had escaped, and halfway unscathed as it seemed.

Mart frowned at him as if he had gone mad and snapped enraged:

"You bloody fool! What in the world of the Keeper are you smattering about?" He slapped his head. " Found some Brandy and boozed it yourself? Anyone with half a brain knows that there are no bitches able to fight! Except for these few sluts hiding with the lads of the resistance..." Mart looked him over. "You saying these were some sluts from the resistance?"

Kahlan huffed lowly. Light anger bubbling up in her at his crude words.

The thief shrugged; and then nodded vaguely and Mart´s face lightened up a little.

"Mhhmm! Now these..." his mouth warped into a sly grin. "...are really good news... If you´re right...Then, maybe, we do not need to search these damned foxes then...What are you waiting for? Let´s go and snag them! I´m sure Lord Rahl will pardon us if we offer him some resistance wenches..." He grinned as he rubbed his hands together.

The Confessor wore a deep frown. Enough heard!

She didn´t wait any longer but stepped into the dancing lights of their fire. The man they called Mart gasped in surprise at her sudden appearance amongst them. The one who had been sitting at the fire jumped. His friend, the thief, whirled around to stare at her, if only briefly, and immediately his eyes searched hectically for the rusty sword that leaned at the side of a nearby tree.

Kahlan was faster, though. Her hand shot up and clutched his neck in a tight grip before a sound could escape his throat.

His breath caught, he froze in disbelieving fright at her bold approach. And then he gaped in horror, watching as her eyes filled with deep, dark, blackness...

He felt a tremendous thunder rolling silently through his trembling body and mind, felt her power flood him and then... Then he felt nothing at all...

Except for the endless love for his judge; the boisterous need to please her... and this need out-drowning all the rest of the world.

"Mistress..." he murmured overwhelmed with awe as she let go of his throat, panting heavily and trembling. She just stared at his companions, unable to utter a word in her brief but heavy weakness. It was enough for him to seize the sword and slash against his friends with an unearthly howl. The one that had just jumped up fell before her voice stopped him.

"Wait!" She was still panting but her voice came clear and with authority.

He froze in the midst of his move. His sword hovering upright in the air, ready to go down and chop Mart´s, head off, if only she gave a sign.

Said leader of the gang stood pressed against a tree, wide-eyed and much too scared to move or even defend himself. After a few seconds, when he could be sure that the blade wouldn´t come down on him, he let out a deep sigh. His knees buckled visibly and he sank to the ground. Panting heavily, as if his lungs had passed on air for hours and now tried to make up for it. He stared at his former companion, trying to comprehend...

Finally he turned his head and his gaze fixed on the Confessor. Big brown eyes met her and he gaped disbelievingly.

Kahlan approached, not attending to the man who still held his sword upright, eagerly following her every move with anxious eyes; hoping for a sign, for a pinch of her regard. For the chance to please her...

"I do not intend to harm you." Kahlan said. "I´m here to take what belongs to me. Do you understand what I say?"

Her voice was dark and strong, underlined with the unmistakable implicitness of power. Though she tried to not scare him more then necessary.

The man crouched on the ground, shaking a little, but finally he managed a barely noticeable short nod.

Kahlan turned around and regarded the brawny man who still held the sword raised and waited for her orders.

"What´s your name?"

"They call me Haron, Mistress. But..." He nodded eagerly; "I will bear every name you want me to!"

His devotion forced an unhappy smile on her face.

"It´s fine, Haron. You can take the sword down now."

He grinned eagerly and obeyed, while his former leader stared stunned at his behaviors.

"What have you done to him?" he whispered appalled. His eyes flitting between him and her.

Kahlan shot him a glance under furrowed brows and bent to collect the Boxes from the ground. She put them back into the bundle and pushed it against Haron´s chest. "You´ll defend this with your life!" Then she turned.

"He is confessed."

"What does that mean - _he is confessed_?"

Kahlan mustered him quizzically, deciding he really didn´t know. She briefly wondered how it was possible that a man of his age, living near the Midlands, could be so clueless if it came to confession. She sighed and straightened.

"I am Kahlan Amnell. I am the Mother Confessor. And your friend here...is under confession. He is bound to my will, he lives to serve me, and I..."

She paused as she saw an expression of sheer horror settle on his features. His eyes round, his mouth forming words that never gained a sound, she frowned deeply as she watched him struggling for composure. Could he really be that dense that confession shocked him so profoundly?

When he finally found his voice to speak she almost didn´t believe her own ears:

"But... but that´s not possible! " he uttered and shook his head vehemently, as if he wanted to shake the vision of her.

"You are...dead!"

The Confessor ´s brows climbed up her forehead. She glared at him with ice-blue surprise in her stare.

"Kahlan Amnell!" He whispered.

" She... she was the last of her kind.

And she died almost 40 years ago!"

Kahlan´s face overshadowed as she glared at him.

"What in the Creator´s name are you talking about?"

But before the man could answer Haron chipped in assiduously:

"Mistress, you died when the Seeker put the Boxes of Orden together! At that time when you made the attempt to finish Darken Rahl. That´s what they told us when we were children... Oh Mistress! I´m overjoyed it had only been a pack of lies..." He gave a silly smile and sighed relieved.

When his sour breath shortly hit her face as he fell to his knees and tried to touch the leather of her boots she didn´t move. A sudden nausea bubbled up from her stomach and a numb feeling settled in her mind. The ground beneath her feet seemed to tremble...

"...Dead?" she murmured; and then, almost voiceless: "...40 years..."

Not till a tiny little sound warned her, together with that prickling in her neck, she whirled – and found herself eyeball to eyeball with a blood-red figure that came breaking through the bushes...

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The Mord Sith stormed out of the bushes and straight against Kahlan, ignoring the men as if they weren´t there and when Haron stepped into her way, ready to defend his Mistress, she just hit her agiel against his throat and fell him without pausing or turning her eyes away from the Confessor.

"Nooo!" Kahlan jerked her daggers up as that picture of ferocity attacked. A side glance towards Haron proved him to be convulsed with pain. But he was alive! He had fallen over the bundle with the Boxes and now he did his best to come to his feet and fight for his Mistress.

"Stay where you are!" she hissed at him, while keeping a wary eye on the blonde woman, who just came to a halt two steps in front of her. As if surprised by Kahlan´s words she seemed slightly irritated. Then her eyes wandered towards the man crouched on the ground who now looked at her imploringly and begged:

"No! Stop! Do not hurt her! Let her go! You can take me instead. Whatever it is that you desire, I´ll do everything... I swear... if only you will not hurt my Mistress!..."

The hand holding the agiel slowly dropped and a derisive cold grin was spreading on the blonde´s features. A sparkling glance met the Confessor.

"Well well, now look at this touching picture.." her voice was low and she sounded amused, her tone was melodic and a somehow alluring timbre lay underneath. Kahlan´s eyes narrowed. The prickling in her neck increased a little.

"The Mother Confessor has gotten herself a bodyguard really quickly... Though..."She shook her head in mock regret. "I´m afraid this one can´t cope with the job. Better I... put him out of his misery..." Still grinning she hauled off with her weapon, but before her agiel was able to crush down on the helpless man Kahlan assaulted her.

Within a heartbeat they were fighting again. Daggers against agiel, they both felt determined not to cede. The Confessor dodged a few strikes successfully, while the amusement she saw written on the Mord Sith´features seemed to increase more and more the longer their fighting went.

Mart didn´t wait to see who was winning but took the opportunity to abscond. Haron still kept crouching on the ground with round and desperate eyes; torn between his compulsion to obey Kahlan not to stir from the spot, watching over the bundle she had given to him, and the urgent need to stand up and fight for his Mistress... He so gladly would give his life for her...

His continuous undecided murmur detracted Kahlan just for a heartbeat, but it was enough for the Mord Sith to jump on her and pull her to the ground. Kahlan wheezed audibly as the agiel chased hot simmering pain through her chest...

"Wait" she spluttered. And immediately hated herself for sounding so defeated. She managed to catch the blonde´s wrist and pressed with all her lasting strength against her. One of her daggers which she had lost in the fight seemed out of her reach just by a hairsbreadth. She squirmed desperately but wasn´t able to get it.

"Wait! This... this is not real!"

The Mord Sith paused and stared at her from narrowed eyes.

"Not real?" she laughed coldly, then, despite her heavy panting, almost purred. "Well, to be granted the chance to have so much fun gambling with the _Mother_ _Confessor_ herself? No, indeed... I never expected to be that lucky. But my agiel on your chest..." she pushed grimly against Kahlan´s defense until the tip of her weapon slightly touched pale skin and Kahlan moaned distinctly.

"Now this feels extremely real, Confessor, doesn´t it?" Pleasurably her cold eyes trailed from Kahlan´s face down to the spot right above her breasts where a dark web already blossomed under the touch of her agiel.

"You may believe me or not. Your choice." Kahlan gasped for breath. "It doesn´t matter. But... you _can_´t! kill me! In this world – where ever we are - I _am_ already dead."

Kahlan breathed relieved as the Mord Sith surceased her and propped up. Tilting her head she looked at Kahlan from under furrowed brows as if considering the Confessor stark raving mad.

Haron, behind her, who had finally found his breath again, moved clumsily, which gained him an annoyed huff and a whirl - and a blow with the agiel against his temple. He slumped down again, unconsciously.

In a flash her attention was back at Kahlan. She took one step back and held her weapon aimed at Kahlan, who came warily to her feet, eyes locked on the Mord Sith, hands flat and raised in a soothing gesture.

Kahlan suddenly felt so tired. As if the Boxes of Orden had sucked a bulk of her energy out of her; and the following fights, the chase after Haron and his confession had taken every lasting bit of her strength.

She looked her foe straight in the eye. If she couldn´t convince her she was as good as dead...

"Take a look around!" The Confessor sighed and pointed to the forest that surrounded them, dark and threateningly. "This is not the same spot where you ambushed us. This forest has grown immensely! When I pursued this man I found this camp. His companions were frightened to the bones when I introduced myself.

We are in the border region between D´Hara and the Midlands. But these men didn´t know about confession! One of them said...Kahlan Amnell... I... has died...40 years ago!" She huffed lowly, still not able to understand what had happened.

The Mord Sith stood quietly, eying her suspiciously, obviously unsure as to how to think of her words.

Kahlan continued. "I have no idea what happened. But when you attacked me on that clearance you meshed with the Power of Orden! And something,... something really awful happened and we should figure that out right away, before..."

"WE should?" the blonde laughed out coldly. "What makes you think I´ll let you live long enough to find out? If it´s true what you say, then I´ll work it out for myself. I´ll find the next temple and consult my sisters. And you!" she pointed with her agiel at Kahlan; "You´ll be. Not! With me then." Again she raised her weapon.

"No! Wait!" Again the Confessor had raised both her hands defensively.

"What if it´s not only me who died 40 years ago? What if you died too? What if this whole world has changed?It´s more than possible that you will need me, Mord Sith! I am from the same world as you are and I have the gift! I can find the truth... We maybe enemies, but I´m sure we are in this together. Like it or not!"

The glare she earned from the blonde was even darker than before. For a few heartbeats she stood stock-still, but then she retreated a few steps, her eyes never leaving the brunette´s face, until she stood close to Harons quiet form. As if casually she kicked him once, then again and harder this time. He didn´t stir.

Kahlan arched a brow and fleered.

"Don´t bother! Even if he awakes, he will not answer to you, if I´m not granting him permission..." Her eyes narrowed and the blonde felt her ice-blue stare washing against her. "And that... I will not! In no way!" Setting her chin she straightened proudly, hoping the Mord Sith would eat it.

The blonde scowled intensely. For a moment it seemed as if she wanted to attack again. But at last she tilted her head and huffed a dark low tone. In a quick rush her agiel met Kahlan´s hip and immediately she stepped aside, prompting the Confessor with a brief wink of her weapon to move. Her face was expressionless, as if carved in stone.

Kahlan panted for air, but straightened carefully, looking at the other suspiciously.

"Does that mean we have an arrangement?"

"No! That means I´m taking you with me. We will find a temple and I will consult my sisters..." Her features brightened up.

"And after that we will have lots of fun accompanying the Mother Confessor herself to meet... _Lord_ _Rahl_!"...

She bent and collected Kahlan´s daggers, never taking her eyes away from the brunette. Without looking at Haron she then pushed her agiel into Kahlan´s back to make her move.

And Kahlan obeyed. Too worn out to put up another fight. She felt she was in a deplorable condition. So for now she obeyed... And after all she was convinced that she needed the Mord Sith to find out what had happened.

She started walking, with her back straight and her mind determined.

This... was not the end! Surely not! This was just the beginning.

_Wherever we are...If we came here then there must! be a way back...And I swear I will find it!_

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_t.b.c._


	3. Chapter 2

_**AN: Still I own nothing of LotS - such a pity! No business, just fanfun!**_

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**CHAPTER 2**

The blonde Mord Sith made them walk until late night. She didn´t seem to tire, or at least she didn´t acknowledge it. And so tried Kahlan. She marched on, refusing to show any sign of exhaustion, though at the end of the day she felt like stumbling through thick mud. When her captor finally stopped she was barely able to hold back a sigh of relief.

All the way they had been walking in silence, Kahlan in front, the Mord Sith close behind her. The agiel had touched her briefly time and again to urge her on and Kahlan wasn´t sure whether this gruesome woman just enjoyed the short hisses she acquired from the Confessor each time she pushed her weapon against her back or if she didn´t even care; the woman had not once made a sound behind her, so that Kahlan considered her to be as confused as she was and that probably each of them was lost in their mind, allowing their own thoughts to wander freely on the paths this day had established. And there was so much food for thought...

She relived the moments before the Mord Sith had attacked. She saw Richard´s face as he´d put the third box in its place, felt the moment again when the Power of Orden had bent to her own gift. And Kahlan had contemplated all she knew about their current situation again and again.

But what she had heard from Mart and Haron had been too little to see behind the curtain.

They both had known about their attempt to stop Darken Rahl! They had known about the Boxes of Orden.

They believed her to be dead... since 40 years...

_- Dear Creator! 40 years! How could that happen? And what happened to Richard!_

They hadn´t said a word about Richard. Or Zedd. Or what had happened to Darken Rahl. The Mord Sith had attacked her from the abyss that had lain behind her! How had she come there? Had she been alone? Had others caught Richard...or killed him?

Kahlan gasped shortly as the thought hit her mind, feeling tears immediately threatening to flood her eyes. She swallowed and forced the thought away just as quickly, refusing to give in to the panic that lurked deep inside her chest. She didn´t know anything! She couldn´t allow herself to get lost in despair. She just wasn´t able to put two and two together.

Not yet.

Her legs ached and her head ached and her thoughts still whirled like autumn leaves confused by a gust of wind. She secretly had to admit to herself that she felt somewhat thankful when the blonde finally seemed to grant her a break.

Though, as she dropped on a log now and watched the blonde checking her surroundings suspiciously she couldn´t help a sneer that her voice carried towards the Mord Sith, together with her taunting words:

"I´ve heard narrating that Mord Sith are so very powerful and strong. And as far as I´ve seen you are a famous warrior, with all your strength and your power of endurance and all that..."

The blonde knit her brows and silently looked her over with her intense cold eyes.

"Yet... it´s been a long day! And after all that has happened... Even you need to rest... don´t you?" She raised her brow as the woman narrowed her eyes on her and nodded thoughtfully with mock regret, almost purring...

"Though there might be a problem, you know? ...You? ...sleeping? – well,... I can´t guarantee that I´ll be able to resist the temptation to turn tables. Who knows... if it´s not _you_ who finds herself prisoner when she awakes?"

Staring at her with her indifferent blue-green glance the Mord Sith seemed to think about that for a moment, then she suddenly smirked ever so slightly and Kahlan felt a shiver running down her back as the woman stood and approached her with a swagger that was more a threat than the agiel in her hand seemed to be. Raising a brow she came to a halt and both her chin and her weapon pointed to the seem of her dress. Again there was this sneer on her face and she looked almost amused and challenging all the same. Kahlan didn´t like it. The closer the blonde came the more she felt like a deer being watched by a she-wolf. But she straightened proudly and tilted her head in an unspoken question..

"Tear a strip from the fabric." Kahlan briefly wondered if that tone of her, that dangerous yet alluring undertone, was a well-trained trick or just her personal note. And then she realized what a strip would serve for and all of a sudden the prickling in her neck was back.

The Confessor didn´t like what she saw coming, her mouth went dry at the mere thought of it, but she winced again when the tip of the agiel met her shoulder and seeing no other way she obeyed. The blonde watched her moves with pursed lips, then ordered her to put the strips down in front of her and turn around and lay on her belly. Kahlan cursed her own boldness inwardly, her mind worked hard to find a possibility to escape the moment but she had no choice but to grit her teeth and follow the orders. Soon her hands were bound on her back and the Mord Sith sat on the log where Kahlan had settled a few moments ago.

The Confessor came clumsily to her feet. Her eyes threw daggers at the blonde, who glared at her coldly, raising a brow and nodding contently.

"Problem solved! Anything else that worries you, Confessor?"

Kahlan glared back at her. Tiny muscles in her cheeks danced frenziedly. She seethed. This woman was just begging to get her head bashed and Kahlan would gladly do so... But the Confessor knew another fight was ridiculous, as long as she wouldn´t get the chance to recover from this day´s happenings. She needed a break, if only a short one!

And she needed her daggers back...

Yet, being stared at from these provoking green eyes, she felt a whole new sort of anger bubbling from inside her belly and she couldn´t help but straighten and, challenging the blonde and locking eyes with her with an equal provocative stare, she raised her voice to be heard even if listening from deep in the shadows, calling out into the night:

"I know you´re here, Haron! ...Do not make yourself known! But listen closely:

I want you to stay hidden! Don´t make a noise! This woman here should not know where you are! As long as she´s awake you will not attack her, unless she´s trying to fight me or even kill me! You will wait until she sleeps soundly; and then you will sneak up on her... and knock her out cold!...That is my wish. You will do as I told you!"

Satisfied Kahlan pursed her lips in a short rush of triumph as she watched the blonde furrowing her brows and narrowing her eyes on her. Despite her hands bound on her back she knelt with studied casualness and then lay down with as much grace as possible, mustering the blonde wordlessly.

Until, after a long and challenging stare-duel that was able to heat the air between them she closed her eyes.

The blonde sat motionless and with eyes narrowed into slits on the log, straining her ears for any sound that didn´t belong there. She held her breath as her eyes searched through the shadows, but there was nothing. At least nothing she could identify...

Finally she huffed annoyed and looked down at her captive.

"This is ridiculous...I should kill you right now and your lapdog too to join you in the Keeper´s world."

Kahlan huffed without opening her eyes and answered coldly.

"You won´t! As proud as you wanna be, you´re just a poor creature in the grip of a maniac Lord. That´s what you´re living for. And if your Lord Rahl in this world is alike the one we know then he will make you pay in ways we can´t imagine if you deprive him the gem of all loots : the Mother Confessor..."

The Mord Sith stared down at her, trying to decide whether she could risk to kill her despite knowing that she was right...

Where she had come from Lord Rahl had never been a man who easily forgave wrong moves. If the world had really changed, what would the new Lord Rahl expect from her?

And much more important: what was she to expect from the new Lord Rahl?

It dawned on her that the Confessor had been right. They both needed to figure out what had happened.

And, after all, this woman had something about her that tempted her as much as it impressed her; something that very rarely happened. She seemed to have an inner strength, a confidence that wrapped her in a certain safety... like an armor would.

_- It could be interesting to test her boundaries..._

She moved to a spot where a tree stood cuddled between some rocks and sat down, her back pressed against the rocks so she didn´t need to fear an attack from behind. Her agiel hummed lowly in her fist.

She would never openly admit it, but the confessor had had a point – after all even she needed a rest. Though, it would be a short rest of course; and she wouldn´t allow her eyes to close... And with the sun rising in the morning she would take care of that invisible threat called "Haron"... and after that she would find out where her sisters had gone..

The blonde furrowed her brows and stared into the night...

::::::::::::::::::::::::

In a distance of almost one league behind them, not knowing he was this close, Haron walked on eager feet. Driven by the need to find his Mistress he didn´t tire and didn´t plan to rest.

When he had come around and found his Mistress had gone, deep despair had settled in his heart immediately. He hadn´t remembered why he had been with his friends, where they had wanted to go or why. All that had been in his mind had been the feeling of disaster for he had lost his Mistress and that he must run after her and search for her and take care for her well being. He clearly remembered the woman in red leather as well as he remembered the pain he had felt when she had stroke him with her eerie weapon;

He shivered slightly as he recalled the hate in her eyes when she had been storming against the Confessor.

There was no time!

His Mistress was in great danger!

He had turned to run after her but he had stumbled over the bundle. Looking down he had remembered. His heart had swelled with sudden pride.

This was the treasure _she_ had given to him. She wanted him to defend it with his life! And that he would!

He had looked around and slowly, very slowly, his mind had started working again. Sliver after sliver his reasonable thinking gained space and so he sat down, taking a little time to consider the situation; to think about the next steps he should take.

Calming his mind and taking a moment had given him back some of his confidence. That was the way he usually handled problems. First think, then act...That had always been his device and it had gained him his excellent reputation.

Haron actually wasn´t the idiot Mart had assumed him to be all the time. In fact Haron had only pretended to be just one of these dumb fools that had joined the loudmouth Mart so eagerly for the last months. He suddenly smiled at he thought of how easy it had been to gain Mart´s trust... - Lord Rahl would have been very contend, if he ever came to know...

Before meeting the Mother Confessor he had been on a quest...

Smiling to himself Haron had shaken the thought away. It didn´t matter any more. Lord Rahl´s name had become a shadow in the mist.

_She_ filled the gap!

Her beautiful blue eyes looking at him, looking deep into his soul;

her voice so sweet that he found himself listening to its echo in his heart...-

Kahlan had appeared to shove his quest aside and with it all the importance his former life had held.

_Kahlan Amnell..._

_She_ was his life now. And she needed all of him and his so well trained abilities, the strength of his arms as well as his clear mind...

Thoroughly he had looked around and started gathering a few things from the camp; he had taken an ax and the sword and one of the mad-smelling blankets. He grabbed the dead man´s two knifes from his corpse, and carelessly discarded his body after that. The bread was taken as well as the roasted half of a thin rabbit that still lay beside the fire. Then he had searched for the trail of the two women and, finding some broken twigs leading southward, he had smiled knowingly as he recognized them as a sign, meant for him to find her. His Mistress was clever! She for sure was the best Mistress a spy as himself could wish for.

He had grinned while he had sneaked away; on the heels of his Mistress and the Mord Sith; decided to find the Mother Confessor and stay at her side; whatever life had up in its sleeves for them...

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

When Kahlan awoke after a few candle marks she needed a moment to remember what had happened. She stretched briefly and sat up, warily searching for her captor. She found the Mord Sith sitting on the log as if she hadn´t moved all the time, angrily staring her down with her cold green eyes narrowed as if expecting something from her. The Confessor frowned and raised her hands, growling a huffish:

"What?"

Watching the blonde purse her lips and pointing at her hands with clear annoyance she suddenly remembered that they had been bound for the night. She frowned. Only now she noticed the white strips laying on the ground beside her, as well as that ordure that made her nose crunch slightly. And that rose from the blanket that had been thrown over her.

"Congratulations, Confessor." The blonde´s voice was biting cold. "Your bodyguard seems a better nurse than I had expected him to be. But don´t worry! Just because he has been quick enough to throw things down and cowardly enough to run away before he could taste my agiel doesn´t mean it´s gonna change his fate. I´ll kill him anyway."

The blonde took a last bite from a roasted rabbit-leg and threw it away, coming to her feet.

"Get up and move. I won´t stay here all day."

And turning to the woods and the light mists simmering in the early light, she called out loud:

"Whatever you´re planning, wussy-boy! - be assured: One! Wrong! Move! - and your Mistress is dead! Don´t get in my way if you want her to live!"

And with that she winked with her agiel and forced Kahlan to move.

The Confessor shot a quick glance around, but apparently Haron had vanished into the woods. She couldn´t help a thoughtful smile.

Now this was surprising!

Not the fact that he cared for her, of course he did! He was confessed...

But as it seemed he had tricked the Mord Sith! Though, he hadn´t killed her; which meant he hadn´t been there in time to listen to her little speech last night. And that meant he had thought about how to act instead and had decided it would be best for her if he didn´t put up a fight with the blonde.

The brunette pursed her lips to avoid a gleeful smile. She hadn´t expected him to be that smart, but obviously he had been the best choice to confess rather then one of his companions.

She walked a little easier then she had the day before, knowing she was secretly accompanied by a man who was ready to help her. Perhaps there was a chance that he would be even able to help her getting out of this mess...

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Sisters! I brought you... The Mother Confess..."

Kahlan felt pushed fiercely. She stumbled into the little hall and fell to the ground. Landing on something fracturable that broke with a dry crack under her sudden weight. Propping on her elbow she barely suppressed a yelp, finding it was a human skeleton she had tripped over, wrapped into remnants of brittle leather. Jerking back the Confessor gasped appalled, staring distraught at the long dead carcass as if it might come around every moment. For a heartbeat she could feel a twist in her stomach as she couldn´t loosen her eyes from the bones she had cracked...

Until the back-breaking silence that suddenly hovered over the room reached her mind. Frowning confused she looked around and noticed the Mord Sith had come to a halt. Watching her standing stock-still Kahlan´s brow raise at the change in her stance...

- In only two days the woman had easily found her way back to this temple, apparently the place from where Darken Rahl had ordered her and her fellow Mord Siths to ambush the Seeker together with his Confessor and the wizard. In these two days Kahlan had studied her as best as she could, knowing her fate depended on knowing this woman, on being able to estimate her in both her thinking and her reactions. As it was with Mord Sith, she couldn´t read her. Which she found was annoying enough. But even without her gift working on the blonde, she still had a sense for people´s body language, reading their features and noticing the slightest change, every twitch of a muscle that tried to announce something. Though, the blonde was hard to read even for her. Most of the times she wore a mask that was so very present that Kahlan couldn´t lift it. On her rare attempts to start a talk she had not received many answers, except for some huffish groans and a sneer every now and then. But the little she had talked had revealed a proud and strong character who didn´t know fear and appreciated a challenge anytime. Despite her harshness during fight she didn´t use her agiel on Kahlan to torture her. Kahlan assumed she would have seen it as a wasted time to really hurt her, now that she´d decided to take her with her. And apparently wasting time was not something the blonde was fond of. She seemed ruled by pride and anger. And with every step that had brought them closer to the temple she had sensed the blonde seemingly emanating more pride and something like anticipation for their near arrival amongst her sisters. Her eyes had held a sparkle that spoke of triumph...

Then they had entered the temple and Kahlan had briefly wondered why there had been no guards and why the gates had been deserted. Furthermore she had incidentally noticed the shabby state of the building. Bricks had been broken from the walls and cracks in the walls had long become home of small plants. Though, Kahlan hadn´t seen too many Mord Sith temples so closely; so she assumed it was possible that they just disregarded their homes? After all, Mord Sith were not known for their housewife´s skills...

But since the blonde had urged her on she hadn´t spent too much time thinking about it, irritated and too busy to avoid that exasperating touch of the woman´s weapon.

Though, of course she had registered that deep frown that had lain on the blondes face constantly increasing while they had marched on...

And now?

Where just a few moments ago a strong blond warrior had pushed her into the hall, proudly expecting to present her loot to her sisters who most certainly would be very excited to have the Mother Confessor at their mercy; there she saw now a woman standing with her shoulders sagged, slightly swaying like a ship rolling in the wind.

As Kahlan looked into her face she saw stunned horror settling in the Mord Sith´s eyes before the woman stepped on unsure feet towards the other side of the hall, where another carcass had been pinned to a pylon by a few arrows.

Feeling finally left to her own devices the Confessor sighed relieved and slowly came to her feet, moving around in a circle, thoroughly appraising what she saw.

All over the ground of the hall there lay half-rotten corpses. Most of them had been shot by arrows, some had been dashed their brains out. Two had been bound to pylons, obviously they had been still alive and given to the strange positions their bones held and the hole in one´s crown they had been tortured to death.

The attack against the temple must had happened in such a massive cruelty that it had most probably not been a fair fight - but a slaughter!

The ground beneath Kahlan´s feet was parched, but the stones it was made of where flooded with rusty-brown color. A shiver ran down her spine as she imagined the enormous amount of blood and pain it had seen.

As far as she was able to judge it seemed a long time ago that this had happened. Though she couldn´t say for sure; the corpses where almost mummified in their state as the air in the hall was dry and cool. Wind blew through the hallways and she didn´t feel any humidity. To the Confessor it seemed impossible to say how much time had passed since this temple had been dispunged.

Kahlan sighed. She had quickly overcome her first shock. She was used to death and pictures of destruction. And this had been a Mord Sith temple. They had been warriors for the evil. Cold and emotionless monsters. They had come to attack them when they had felt safe on the clearing. Though, after all the sight of their death rather stirred a distant feeling of satisfaction in her.

She felt no sorrow for them!

But then...

There was a longstretched, doleful sound that permeated through her walls and made her turn around and look at the Mord Sith with surprised curiosity.

"...Triana..."

The way the Mord Sith half-breathed just this one word held a tragedy that seemed to stir something deep inside Kahlan. It sounded so forlorn, so broken that she could feel the melancholy overwhelm her own heart. She couldn´t help but stare at that woman who she had thought an emotionless monster.

Kahlan held her breath as if not daring to disturb this moment of grief and despair.

It held only for a heartbeat.

All of a sudden the Mord Sith turned around and the flame of hate she saw burning in her eyes was close to insanity. Her voice trembled as she spoke through gritted teeth:

"Whoever did this... They are dead! They just don´t know yet!"

She approached slowly. Her fist wrapped tightly around her weapon. Kahlan straightened warily and stepped backwards.

"Do you understand now that we need to find out what has happened?"

The blonde slowly shook her head, glaring at her with lust to kill clearly written in her eyes.

"I do not care what happened. It doesn´t matter anymore! - If this is the work of the new Lord Rahl, I´ll find him! And kill him!"

She stepped closer and drew her agiel out. Every fiber of her being calling for action. She growled darkly:

"But first..."

One more step...

"I´ll kill _you_!"

With deliberate movements Kahlan had drawn further back, but now she stood with her back to the wall. Her nerves were all on edge. All her muscles went tense in expectation of a sudden move and a strike. The blonde had her jaw set as she stared her down, getting closer and closer, obviously decided to strike.

Though, in the very moment when Kahlan jerked her arm up to block the strike she heard a bump and the Mord Sith slumped to the ground, felled by an invisible hand. Kahlan panted as she watched her falling and behind her Haron loomed with a club in his fist, grinning contently and snarling with his voice dark:

"No, bitch!... You won´t!"

_t.b.c_

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	4. Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks, guys, for all the love! It makes my day, and keeps my muse fancy... *winks***

******Disclaimer:** Nothing of LotS belongs to me (such a pity!) - **no business, just fan-fun**

******:::::::**

**Chapter 3**

Kahlan sighed relieved at the sight of the tall man, only now feeling the heavy beating of her heart; she nodded thankfully.

"Not a moment too early..." she breathed.

"I´m sorry, Mistress! I wanted to step in sooner, but I was worried...it would have led to a fight and you´ve said you needed her; and she didn´t seem to really threaten you until now. Though, ...I´ve been careful! She´s not dead; only unconscious. And she may suffer a massive headache when she comes around."

He watched her closely as she stepped over the Mord Sith and bent down to examine the body; freezing immediately when a low moan escaped the woman as she turned the blonde on her back.

Haron smiled gently. "As I said, Mistress. She´s unconscious. There´s no need to fear her now."

Still kneeling beside the Mord Sith Kahlan shot him a sharp side-glance.

"Don´t be stupid. This is not fear," she growled. "but you should never underestimate this woman! She´s quick! And she´s shrewd!"

She found her daggers in the blonde´s belt and pulled them out to carefully put them back into their sheaths at her legs. A small satisfied smile pulled at her lips, clearly feeling self-assured and more like herself with her weapons in her reach.

Then she turned and mustered Haron quizzically; her gaze swept briefly over his whole figure before she questioned with her brows furrowed.

"Last night... You´ve been around!? Though, you have taken no actions except for the blanket you´ve thrown over me after cutting my bonds..." It was more a statement than a question and that sliver of reprehension she put in her words unintendedly. Immediately she saw regret and guilt washing over his features. His eyes begging her.

"Forgive me, Mistress. Please! I … had no orders from you. So I´ve tried to act reasonable. The woman hardly ever slept. I watched her all night long; but whenever I thought she might close her eyes for more then just a blink, she would always stretch and come around again. I thought it too dangerous to blindly attack her. If she would have killed me... there would have been no one left to defend you! So I just approached twice, once to cut your bonds and, since she hadn´t registered that, I dared a second approach to bring you the blanket to keep you warm..." and seeing her tilting her head in surprise he offered an uncertain shrug: "It´s been a cold night, Mistress..."

Kahlan´s eyebrow had risen, her gaze was almost whimsical.

"Twice!?" She smiled, nodding approvingly. "You are a smart man, Haron! I don´t think anyone else would have tricked her like this."

Haron beamed with pride at her praise.

Looking back at the Mord Sith, thoroughly studying her unconscious body, her eyes finally rested on her face that now seemed relaxed and... emanating a peace she assumed she would nerver se on her again when she was awake. She sighed.

"I´m afraid she will rather get furious when she comes around. You should bind her hands. And take care that her agiel is out of her reach. Then take her out of here. We will stay here for the night, but I doubt we will find some rest inside these walls..." She looked around and with a sigh deeply inhaled the stale air that filled the hall, murmuring: "This place is forsaken by the Spirits..."

::::::::::::::::::::::

Kahlan moved carefully as she entered the vaults of the temple. Though, beside a few rats squeaking disturbed as she walked by, putting them to flight, she had been right: all living had abandoned these chambers long time ago. Though, entering the dungeons, she could almost feel the smell of blood and sweat that used to hang in the air in earlier times. This had always been a place where pleasure had had the same meaning as pain, though not for the same persons.

She had come to put the Boxes of Orden to safety in a place where seemingly no essence of life lasted; and to see if there was anything viable she could use on the journey that lay ahead; but all she found was another skeleton in the dungeons, still chained to the wall and she shivered, assuming that this person must have been alive when the temple had been assaulted. But no one had cared enough to free the prisoner.

It pained her to think about how it must have been an awful way to die; knowing that hunger and thirst and rats gnawing at your toes where the only lasting companions in this jail... The wave of sorrow that washed through her chest as she stared at the bones forced a small sigh from her throat. She thought of the blonde woman, who had most certainly tormented such prisoners herself. Many. And over years.

_Dear Creator! How shall I ever be able to trust her?_

Not half a candle mark later Kahlan watched the blonde slowly come around. Her hands stretched against their bonds; then her feet; and as she found herself immobile her eyes opened warily, her first glare shooting hot dark fire at the man who stood calmly watch a few steps beside her. Then, while sending cautious glances around she lay perfectly still, obviously trying to gauge her situation, but small muscles in her cheek danced feverishly.

As her eyes found the Confessor, sitting on a log at the small fire, watching her vigilantly, she pursed her lips and huffed. Her voice was a little rasping as she drawled her words with bored disdain, but beside that she didn´t show any sign of detriment.

"I´d clap my hands if I could, Confessor. Your lapdog has finally got me! I hope you know you should have let him kill me! That would have made your life so much easier than holding me captive. I swear!"

The brunette gave her a small, almost condescending smile that barely curled her lips and didn´t reach her eyes. The chagrin that tasted so bitter on the Mord Sith´s lips was certainly not really meant to threaten her or Haron, but was rooted in the blonde´s frustration over her own failure.

"I do not intend to hold you captive! I have no time to concern myself with a crabby Mord Sith. I just needed to prevent you from attacking us as soon as you regain consciousness. Which, I think, was a wise decision, seeing your mood now. And..." The look she gave her sparkled with blue ice. "I thought it easier to talk to you if you´re not holding your agiel..."

The Mord Sith had sat up under Haron´s piercing glance, which she had bluntly answered with a grim glare of her own and now squinted her eyes at her.

"Talk?" She huffed loudly. "And would that be we need to talk about?"

"About the choices I´ll grant you. Which I advice you make the best of. It´s no great thing. You will find the decision is easy to make.

Choice one: You and I...we´re going to work together." Seeing the blonde furrow her brows in indignation and shooting her quizzical looks she leaned a little closer.

"I told you we are in this together! And before you threatened to kill _me_ you said you would go and find the Lord Rahl. And I think _that_ is exactly what we should do!"

Huffing loudly at her words the Mord Sith looked away and made a point of rolling her eyes.

"Why is it you´re always seeking for a _WE? _ You´ve asked that before. Look at yourself_: _You´re a Confessor! The _Mother_ Confessor, yet. I am Mord Sith! Remember? My kind and your kind? We _kill _each other!" She shook her head. "No! There is no _WE_! ..." She straightened. "I assume there is another choice?"

Instead of giving an answer Kahlan slowly led her gaze to Haron, who had his ax in hand and swung it meaningfully...

Her forehead crinkled as the blonde stared at him for a few heartbeats, looking as if being ready to eat him alive. Though, at last she pursed her lips, obviously coming to a decision, and turned her head towards the Confessor again, growling: "As long as I´m bound I will not talk!"

Despite her words the blonde hadn´t sound as hostile as before. Kahlan assumed that all her senses where focused on revenge for her sisters´ extermination. Though, there was something in her voice that told the Confessor she at least contemplated the idea of them working together.

For a moment Kahlan chewed on her lip, staring at her captive pensively. It could be worth the risk. This Mord Sith shared her fate in this new world. Having her on her own side would be immensely advantageous. But... what if these green eyes she couldn´t read tried to dupe her? Was this really the right thing to do? This woman was filled with hatred. And stubborn in her believes; And she wasn´t sure at all if she would ever be able to trust her, even if she agreed to her plans. Her eyes searched Haron, who stood silently behind the Mord Sith, never taking his eyes away from her, fulfilling her orders without questioning. He was a tall and strong man; he was smart. And confessed as he was he would never cease to watch over her. If the blonde would try an attack she had to face the both of them...

She sighed, closing her eyes; allowing herself to vision the man who had told her so many times that all coins held two sides...

_Where are you, Richard? _

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes again, finding her green gaze fixed on her with strained curiosity.

Eventually Kahlan plucked up her courage and straightened.

"What is your name?"

The blonde pursed her lips again, as if deliberating whether she should answer at all. Though, when she already thought she would refuse an answer Kahlan heard her drawl:

"_Mistress_ Cara."

The Confessor raised an amused brow at the arrogant emphasis on the word _Mistress. _

_Even in her situation..._

She nodded slowly.

"So,... _Cara_! … Do I have your word that you will not put up a fight when I release you?"

The Mord Sith stared her down; but finally she nodded slowly. "Word."

Kahlan gave Haron a wink. He sported a tiny disapproving frown; but bent and freed the Mord Sith from her bonds without saying a word. The woman ignored him, eyes still locked with Kahlan´s, and raised a brow.

"My agiel..." she pointed to the rot that lay beside Kahlan´s feet.

Her jaw set Kahlan gave Haron another wink and he approached to stand beside her; strong and tall and warily; holding his rusty sword in one hand and the ax in the other.

The blonde sneered.

"You are not trusting my word?"...

Tilting her head ever so slightly the Confessor shrugged vaguely.

"Last time I had the word of a Mord Sith... the Seeker´s mother died!"

She kicked the agiel towards the blonde, narrowing her eyes as its brief but intense pain shot through her ankle. The Mord Sith picked it up, briefly tensing as her agiel welcomed the touch with its usual pain jolting through her arm and regarded it with a hint of pleasure in her eyes.

"Oh yes... Denna! I have heard about that... - You bashed her hard for her failure..." It sounded almost commendatory. She put her agiel in its holster and showed her empty hands.

"Denna has always angled for her own self-serving. She´s a dishonorable bitch!" She stood and walked over to the fireplace.

"I... am not! Denna!"

And with that she dropped on another log near the fire, grimly staring at the Confessor.

"You have a few moments. So,... talk!"

Kahlan eyed her thoughtfully, struggling with her words – and with that little information they had.

Finally she nodded.

"The last we know is that you attacked us on that clearance. Haron and his friends -"

"They were not my friends, Mistress!" he lowly chipped in, anxious to rectify her. It gained him an admonitory look from cold blue eyes which made him slouch appalled.

"Haron and his... fellows... do not know about Confession. Obviously these people are even clueless about Mord Sith. The temple here has been savaged years ago. So, do you agree that this world has changed dramatically?"

The blonde Mord Sith didn´t answer. Her narrowed, viridian eyes just held her gaze.

Kahlan sighed frustrated and continued with more pressure in her voice.

"You´ve said you will seek revenge for what they did to your sisters. I understand that. But... As for me, I want to know _where_ we are, and _how we get back_ to our world! There _MUST_ be a way back! And somehow I feel like we need each other´s help to find it!"

She leaned in, tensely staring at the blonde who still didn´t show any reaction.

"_Cara_!... If we can go back, then, maybe, this all..." she pointed to the walls of the temple, its cragged shadow looming right behind them, slowly accentuating every word, "...will _never_! _Come!_ _to happen_!"

For the first time she saw a brief sparkle in her eyes. The pursing of her lips increased and the brunette held her breath as the woman´s eyes swept past her to the walls of the temple´s tower, hatefully glowering into the night. Until the Confessor almost jumped when the Mord Sith stood abruptly; nodding silently and giving her a still hostile, yet expectant glance.

Gasping appaled Haron quickly stepped between them with his sword raised, alarmed by her sudden moves, though Kahlan lay a hand on his arm to hold him back. She felt part of her tension melt away from her back, now that the blonde seemed to agree with her. Yet, that prickling in her neck was back. Her instincts tried to warn her. She swallowed it down. She needed to do this.

If there was any chance to get back to Richard and Zedd, she would give her live to do so.

She inhaled deeply and stood, and, intending to slow the blonde who was already going to rush she laid a hand on her arm, as she had done with Haron before. In that same moment the Mord Sith whirled around with an expression of murder on her face, wiping her hand away while her agiel stopped close to Kahlan´s throat, humming its threat into her ears. The Confessor´s hand in return immediately shot up to Cara´s throat, grabbing around it hard, while a flabbergasted Haron hesitated to rise his sword again, afraid it would cause the Mord Sith to strike. Kahlan´s hand squeezed a little, but didn´t tighten around Cara´s throat, while the agiel hovered just an inch away of her skin. The air between them seemed to crampwith the sudden tension. Both were staring at each other as if trying to just petrify the others move with their glares only; eyes wide and focused; daring the other to do just one wrong move.

Kahlan stood frozen with her head bent back. The tension sent shivers down her spine. The blonde stared at her with eyes so biting cold that it gave her the creeps, holding her wide-eyed look for what seemed a whole candle-mark, but was only a heartbeat, before she finally breathed again and relaxed ever so slightly, pulling her weapon away. With a deep sigh of relief the Confessor pulled her hand back, briefly palming her forehead.

_Dear Spirits! ..._

"I´m sorry!" she murmured. "No offense meant..."

Cara tilted her head, her voice low and with a threatening timbre: "If you want to work with me you rather keep your hands off my leathers! No touching! Understood?"

Kahlan stepped aside. "I just wanted..." She paused. What was it she had wanted? Build up something like camaraderie with this woman?

"We can´t leave right now! We were walking all day long, and we do not know what is awaiting us on the road ahead. Don´t you think we should work out a plan, before we blindly run into action?"

"I have a plan." the blonde answered. "We go to the People´s Palace!"

Hearing the defiance buried in her voice Kahlan huffed lowly. This Cara-woman was a real challenge...

"Maybe we should first listen to Haron? Probably he can tell us what this world is alike. I´m sure he has more useful information for us than he offered back in their camp. The more we know, the better we are prepared! And when the sun rises and we all had some time to rest we will leave for the People´s Palace."

The Mord Sith considered her words, standing at ease again, and finally turned around, giving Haron a long dark glare, beholding him like one would behold a stallion that was to be bought.

"So you think this peasant will be of avail?" Leering she stepped closer to him, close enough that her hand could slowly glide over his muscled chest down to his trousers; her eyes watched his reaction and Kahlan saw the amusement on her expression. She enjoyed that, while he squirmed a little helpless and searched his Mistress´eyes precariously, silently asking how she´d expect him to react.

"Well, I´m sure he can keep us warm..." she purred and turned to watch Kahlan, who´s cheeks had started burning. Trying to swallow her embarrassment down the Confessor inhaled deeply, which made the lips of the blonde twitch into a small, mischievous grin. She stepped back from Haron and sauntered over to Kahlan; close. Closer than she had been to the man, until she was able to lean in and whisper in her ear:

"Don´t worry, Confessor; you can have him first if you want. At least he´s your man, so I assume it´s a question of courtesy..." and leering she went back to the log she had been sitting on before...

Closing her eyes for just one deep breath to temper her annoyance, Kahlan silently cursed the fate that had forced this particular Mord Sith to her side when doubtlessly there had been so many that had been available in their old world. She couldn´t imagine any one else would have been that smug while in a situation like theirs...

Though, swallowing her anger she didn´t even notice that tiny curl of her lips, admitting to herself that this Cara had a very special way to provoke her...

She looked back at Haron and blushed again. Shaking her head she turned and joined her new companion at the small fire.

::::::::::::::::::::::::

Haron had told them all he had known. Which hadn´t been as much as Kahlan had hoped for. She could feel the nagging disconcertment as she finally set to rest for the night.

Haron was younger than he looked with his handsome features and his stern brown eyes buried under his filthy beard. He had lived only twenty-five years, so he had been born long after the Confessor and the Mord Sith had left their world under mysterious circumstances and were thrown into an unknown future. All he knew about the events after Richard had put the Boxes of Orden together he knew from hearsay; had been told of in his childhood. Though, with the years gone by even the narrating had ceased until for the younger ones the existence of Confessors and Mord Sith became a legend that one would whisper into the ear of another.

Haron didn´t remember everything he had been told in detail. Or perhaps he hadn´t listened closely, which he wordily regret now as she asked.

Though, at least he was able to tell them about Richard´s fate, because his familiar relationship with Darken Rahl and the end of the glorious Seeker, had led to many songs about a misguided hero who had finally found his place in the Palace of his brother.

All the while Kahlan had clung to his words.

On that clearing, nearly forty years ago, when the Mord Sith had attacked, Darken Rahl had finally trapped Richard.

"They told us that the former Lord Rahl had managed to hinder his brother to put the Boxes of Orden together..."

Kahlan´s eyebrow jumped up, dumbfounded, and her voice was doubtful as she asked.

"What do you mean: His brother?"

Haron tilted his head with a slight frown. He looked as if wondering why she would question. He had always thought this fact to be well known...

"Darken Rahl had long known that he had a brother, who was born to a maid his father had thoroughly chosen to bear him another son, who would be able to bring his brother down when time would come... It´s said:_ His father had been in irrational mind, hoping for a child that would be able to stop his son, he took the daughter of a mighty wizard to his bed,_..."

"Zedd..." Kahlan breathed. Her expression was one of complete confusion. She slowly shook her head over and over again, not believing what she heard. _Richard is Darken Rahl´s brother? But...How could that be?_

Haron stood with his gaze locked on her; uncomfortable with her reaction; watching her closely as he continued:

"You do not like that! Though, that´s just what I´ve been told... there is no proof the narrating is right... Perhaps it´s just... a rumor?"

For a few moments Kahlan just stared at him wordlessly with deep crinkles on her forehead; obviously seeing right through him, making him feel guilty somehow for not knowing what was true and what wasn´t.

Until Cara chipped in with bored annoyance:

"Of course it´s true! Your Seeker is a Rahl. He´s Darken Rahl´s brother. Lord Rahl just never made it official.."

And seeing Kahlan´s quizzical eyes she shrugged and drawled:

"He didn´t want to stir the flames too soon. I think he liked the idea that he himself would confront him with their familiar bonds..."

The Confessor stared at her with an icy blue .

"But..." Words left her.

Cara raised her brows and huffed.

"What? Come on. The Seeker is known to be a bloody fool! A soft, goodhearted hero, easily distracted and ruled by emotions and sympathy..."

Narrowing her eyes the brunette snapped back at her:

"He is the most goodhearted man indeed! He saved many lives and gave people what they craved for: hope! YOU!... Have no idea who he really is!"

Her eyes shot daggers from worried blue pools; involuntarily she had straightened and had set her jaw in an angry gesture.

The Mord Sith gave her a nonchalant look, a slight sneer playing on her lips as she drawled her words pointedly.

"Once standing in front of Darken Rahl, ready to finish him once and for all...Do you really think the Seeker, your _goodhearted_ Seeker, could kill Lord Rahl that easily the moment he recognized he is of his own blood? His brother? Lord Rahl considered it a very good weapon if the Seeker would be really able to get to that point. The truth! ...was an as in his sleeves."

Kahlan´s cheeks had lost all color with her words; but looking the blonde in the eye she suddenly knew she was right. Her jaw tense she turned to face Haron again. Biting her bottom lip she swallowed against that taste of bile that tried to rise from her belly. Then she asked hesitatingly:

"What happened after Rahl had taken the Seeker to his dungeons?"

He squirmed a little. "That was long before I´ve been born...I´m afraid I can´t tell." He looked really sorrowful. "Not in detail. Though... As far as I remember, with time passing by the Seeker has gotten closer to former Lord Rahl, to the point where their brotherly relationship allowed him to move freely and ...I´ve heard that he even led a dragon corps to reprimand the rebels of Clearwater."

Stunned the Confessor grimaced in disbelieve. She felt numbly, shaking her head again and again while her hands fidgeted in her lap. Richard and Darken Rahl had lived in peace with each other? Not! Possible!

The man before her suddenly looked like a chastised school boy, oversized with all his muscles and stately size, but bashfully shrinking and hiding his hands as if expecting the teacher´s stick beat him. He chewed on his words, but somehow he felt as if the Confessor needed to hear this; that she needed to know all about her Seeker to finally regain control again...

"But, as I said... I don´t know for sure... When I was born and raised..." he inhaled deeply and looked her in the eyes. These beautiful eyes that stared at him anxiously; knowing already what he was about to say. "...there were neither Darken Rahl nor the Seeker anymore. The Lord Rahl who is ruling today has been the only Rahl I´ve ever known."

Kahlan had blanched and now breathed heavily, deeply inhaling the crisp air, fighting the lump that had long since settled in her throat and suddenly threatened to choke her. Tears struggled in the corner of her eyes.

"He died?" It was only a whisper as it stumbled from her lips. "The Seeker is dead?"

Haron looked inconsolable, her unshed tears cut deep into his heart. But he gave a sad nod.

"The Seeker died in a battle, and his brother followed him soon after... The young Lord Rahl was just about 13 when he ascended the throne. He is a mighty wizard nowadays and … he has taken _the Sword_ too. He is the Seeker now and Master over these lands."

Silence settled at their fire. While Kahlan had her face buried in her palms, quietly panting against her tears, her body shaking ever so slightly every now and then, the Mord Sith finally harrumphed and demanded with her eyes narrowed and her voice hard:

"What happened to the Mord Sith?"

Haron barely shifted to look at her. His gaze still locked on his Mistress he briefly considered waiting for her permission to give an answer to that woman. But, since long before his confession he had been trained to quickly appraise people. And, knowing already that Kahlan wouldn´t mind, he lowly said:

"As long as I remember ...parents were telling their children they better behaved, cause if not... a Mord Sith would come and take them..."

He turned and now looked into her eyes.

"But before I´ve met you I didn´t even believe they were real! ... I do not know what happened to them."

Her jade green eyes seemed to dive deep into his confessed mind, as if searching for the truth there, her lips pressed into a thin line. Kahlan looked up and watched her fist tightening around her agiel. She looked as if she was close to burst.

Trying to give all of them a break to calm down she lowly stated:

"It´s been a long day. We should all get some sleep. Haron, you´re taking watch. You´ll have to rest later."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

He sat at the dying fire and watched his Mistress with soft eyes as she stirred and slowly came around. She was so beautiful! He admired the way her long raven hair fell in waves over her back; the way she would brush a strain out of her face...If one had asked him, it was propably this what he loved the most about her. Or maybe he would say it was the way she walked, her strong and decided moves, which were even outmatched by her art of fighting. Dear Creator! His Mistress was an amazing and savage creature when she fought. How a woman could emanate such power and elegance at the same moment he didn´t know. For all his life he had been taught that fighting was for the men. Woman stayed home safely, rearing children; caring for their husbands.. He had never known a woman who was able to handle a weapon.

He smiled.

Kahlan Amnell was indeed very special. Even this Mord Sith had noticed. She had not killed her when there had been the chance for her to do so. And for that he was really greatful. Though he had seen her eyes sparkling with something entirely dangerous that conflicted with her demonstrated annoyance. Something wild and predatory; something that made him shiver, like a tremendous storm sending thick and dark clouds from the mountain ranges.

He sighed. He didn´t like the way this Cara had looked at her!

And that was why he didn´t regret it.

Though, watching Kahlan opening her eyes and looking around, seeing that frown that quickly blossomed on her face he knew somehow he was supposed to regret it. These beautiful clear blue eyes that made his heart melt for her, looked at him with a question to which, he knew, she wouldn´t like the answer...

It hurt.

"Where is she?"

t.b.c


	5. Chapter 4

**AN: I´m sorry it took that long. And thanks, dear guest, for the gentle nudge this morning... :) I hope this will ease your pain... **

**Good news? I´m preparing for NaNoWriMo! So, it might well be that you won´t hear of me during November... But no worries: P&D will return. Promised! If I can manage it I´ll prepare a little something, a little _interlude?_ to make the waiting easy... ;)**

**Oh, and I am happy to introduce JaniceHope as my new Beta... Welcome to the party, honey! **(Though we are still trying to look over the past few chapters. Means: this one is only half beta-ed... Sorry!)

**And, as usual: Nothing of LotS belongs to me (such a pity!) - No Business - just fanfun!**

Chapter 4

In the middle of the night the Mord Sith woke up; cold sweat pooling on her skin and her hand tightening its grip around the handle of her weapon. Cara appreciated the fire her agiel forced through her muscles. The pain grounded her and allowed her to focus on where she was; to leave the dream behind. A dream in which she had watched a man who´s face had been obscured, but who was wrapped in the colors of the Lord Rahl. She gritted her teeth as she thought of the many ways this man had tortured her sisters, how she had felt it as if he had ripped her own skin off her flesh; and Triana´s eyes that had been filled with pain and disbelieve. He had beaten her and cut into her flesh and...

She lay perfectly still, slowly breathing in and out, until the hammering of her heart calmed and she felt control coming back to her. Locking the images into a compartment of her mind that would be closed and not be opened again. She was Mord Sith. She wouldn´t allow a dream to chase her.

When her eyes shot open, no one would have noticed the agitation she had felt just a moment before.

Looking up at the moon she considered it had only been a handful candle marks since they had settled for the night. Though, as much as it concerned Cara it had been sufficient to refresh her.. She exhaled deeply and rose, always aware of the confessed man who watched her from behind the low crackling fire.

The moment she approached the sleeping Confessor he stood up immediately, an alarmed expression on his face. The Mord Sith ignored him; intending to wake the brunette to break camp and leave. Though, the moment she raised her foot, ready to nudge the brunette in her rips, she suddenly paused.

For a fleeting moment it felt as though she could feel Triana´s hair brushing against her cheek as she whispered into her ear.

„_Kill her! Before she will kill you!"_

Staring down at the sleeping woman, her eyes sweeping over that pale face, regarding the thick wave of dark tresses that framed her head and put a softness to her features she hadn´t seen while she´d been awake, the blonde found herself reluctant to listen to Triana´s voice:

„_She is a Confessor. You are just a tool for her own selfish reasons; once it´s over? She will kill you without giving it a second thought. You cannot work with a Confessor. You know that! She can´t be trusted!"_

Cara chewed on her bottom lip. She was used to quick and smart killing. She would never risk her own life by sparing that of another. And this sleeping woman, Kahlan Amnell, the Mother Confessor herself; was just one of many Confessors she had met before. All the others were dead. She had killed them in the name of Darken Rahl.

Though... in whose name should she kill this one?

Triana´s?

The blonde huffed lowly.

- _It´s not her fault you are dead, Triana._

It was embarrassing to defend the Mother Confessor against the silent demand of her dead lover. Though, she thought in defiance, it was true! It was not the Confessor´s fault her sisters had been murdered.

Tilting her head she studied her face, settling on that sad frown that furrowed the brunette´s forehead even in her sleep and she thought back to this afternoon, when Kahlan Amnell could have killed her but had granted her liberty; despite the fact that she herself had been Cara´s captive for two days. And she thought about giving her word; that she wouldn´t attack, just a few hours ago...

She didn´t know why, but it felt foreign, to even think about the possibility of murdering this woman.

Once more her narrowed eyes had swept over the Confessor, admitting to herself that it would be a waste to kill this woman. Flexing her hand around her agiel she huffed and finally made her decision.

Spinning around her eyes met Haron´s glare. The man had approached her silently and now stood at arm length before her, alarmed, his hand holding his ax in a tight grip.

Raising her hands, Cara glared back at him and growled:

„I´m not going to kill her! No Worries. Just get out of my way."

Shortly Haron hesitated, staring at her with clear hostility; but then he stepped aside and let her pass, silently watching her walking away...

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Cara had taken the road to Blackthorn, quickening her pace as she recognized a few farmhouses that told her she came closer to the village.

She still felt that unfamiliar feeling of trepidation; bubbling in her chest whenever she thought about what Haron had told her. That feeling of emptiness, anger, and some sort of pain she couldn´t assign to the many sorts of pain she knew tightening her chest...

There were no Mord Sith alive...

It had taken her half the day to finally reach the fences that surrounded the cottages at Blackthorn´s outside margin. She knew this pile of houses well. It had been in the temple´s focus for years after Darken Rahl had discovered that this small village was the root of some very annoying resistance-activities. Cara had been part of more than one punitive visits here. After all she was aware that, if anyone lived to recognize her, she probably was about to face trouble. But if she was to travel all the way to the People´s Palace she needed supplies, lots of them. And these people would give her a horse, if not voluntarily, then she would know how to convince them.

When she entered the village she walked with her back straight and her head held high. Emanating all the pride and self-confidence she owned. Though unobtrusively her eyes followed every move of the villagers she saw walking around; her gaze suspiciously traveling from one side of the street to the other, as if reckoning a sudden attack.

Only few people were out. Their eyes cast to the ground, they walked without talking or even greeting one another when their paths crossed. They just stepped aside, murmuring a low apology and hurried on. Cara observed them meticulously, waiting for any sign of bewilderment, for a shout of warning or merely hushed whispers as she walked among them. But, apparently no one seemed to attend to her visit.

Thinking about her many visits to this place her back tensed. All too well she remembered how much she had disliked this village for the defiant faces that had greeted her and her sisters when she had come to make an example in the name of her Lord Rahl. For their laughter and that incessant noise their children had made until they had gotten aware of their leathers, when sudden fear had appeared in their eyes ... Though, looking at the villagers now, observing their unobtrusive attitudes, all trying to not attract attention while they hurried their way...

Cara slowed her pace and looked around. In the streets she had always known crowded and noisy before not a single child was to be seen. As if they kept hidden in the houses, or, which was barely imaginable, as if children no longer lived in this village.

An anxious silence crawled through the streets.

Something felt damned wrong here.

Finally reaching the middle of the village Cara came to a halt and frowned. Around the corner, right in the center of the village, she had expected to find the formerly well known store, that old and scruffy hut, that had belonged to the fat village mayor then.

Though, what erupted where she had thought to get her supplies had nothing in common with the village store she remembered.

Where formerly the shabby kiosk had been there was a new building, much bigger then the one she had known, with simple but detailed ornaments on its reddish stone-walls; ornaments she didn´t recognize at all. Though, looking closer, she thought them somewhat familiar. A few large windows under wooden arcs decorated the upper floor; while the lower level, which barely reached above the ground, had thick iron bars in two low, semicircular holes in the wall at both sides of the building she could oversee. Apparently they led into dark rooms that lay behind them; rooms, where, in her estimation, hardly ever full sun light would be seen. She saw a few arms reaching through the bars, winking at any person walking by, as if trying to grab them and ask for help. Though, none of the few villagers in this street seemed to pay attention. Instead they seemed to shrink even further and clearly avoided to look at the building.

Cara heard whispered shouts, suppressed noises which she knew all too well. Tortured men made such noises; when they were whining and begging for their tormenters to release them; to either stop their pain or free them by finally killing them.

A deep frown settled on her features as she regarded the building.

A prison? In this small village?

Well... This wasn´t what she had expected. And looking around she suddenly felt extremely aware of her own peculiarity in this place. Her leathers as much as nearly everything about her demeanor was literally calling out to the folks around her. Her eyes narrowed on the uniformed men standing watch at the stairs that led to the entrance of the building. It seemed they hadn´t noticed her yet. Carefully she shifted and deftly slipped into the shadows of the nearest hut to take a moment to consider her options.

When that warning tingling in her neck made her turn her eyebrow rose as she noticed a boy on the other side of the street, leaning against the wall of a cottage and regarding her with blank curiosity. He was just a lanky boy, maybe 13 years old, unruly dark curls falling over his face and deep dark eyes, staring at her as if trying to drill into her mind, were filled with presumptuousness. He had his lips pursed disparagingly and Cara´s frown deepened. His whole attitude expressed something that was close to disdain.

The Mord Sith straightened proudly, giving him her most intimidating glare, which finally seemed to make him turn around and run away – right towards the stairs that led into the main building. She saw him running upstairs, taking two steps at once.

Staring after him the Mord Sith took a deep breath and slowly let it out again. She didn´t like it, but it was very likely that in a few moments this boy would be blabbing her visit.

Deciding that this was neither the place nor the time to debate her case with any Tom, Dick or Harry, she retreated, warily watching her surroundings, and left the village.

Maybe she would find supplies and a horse in one of the farmhouses that lay stray on her way to D´Hara.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Her plan was to follow the main road for a while until she could use the Valley of Gloom to cut around the official four-week-route. The way through the valley was hard, and depending on the current weather situation it was dangerous, due to a few thin rivulets that could easily increase into a torrent if enough rain poured down; and beside that there were some wild beasts living down there. Very few people ever dared to cross it. But Cara had done it before; all she needed was an ounce of fortune to help her through.

Though, apparently, this ounce of fortune didn´t come to her that easily...

She had made only half a league when she could hear the sound of galloping hoofs approaching from behind. Pretending not to be concerned she stepped to the side to let them pass, without slowing down or paying attention at who they were. Quickly she found herself surrounded by a dozen men, and the thirteenth, remaining aloof, was the boy she had seen in the village. The sneer on his face added to the gleeful glance he gave her as he looked down at her from his saddle.

"You!There!"

The man calling was just on the edge of being a man, maybe in his seventeenth year, his hair short and shining fire-red, his pale face that of a pubescent boy with first shadows of a manly beard. His stinging blue glance was locked on her figure instead of her eyes as she looked up at him, while her hand settled on her agiel. She saw his tongue darting out and over his lips while he mustered her, leering at her breasts with such a hungry gaze that she knew he was already ripping her leathers off in his mind.

Raising her chin and suppressing the urge for an annoyed eye roll she waited for him to focus on her gaze, eying him from under her lashes, and covertly shooting side-glances at his companions as they moved in an almost circle around her.

Twelve.

And they naturally arranged in groups of four. One in front of her, one to the side of the street and one in her back.

Quads! Something she was familiar with. Yet did not appreciate. And nothing that was to be expected from the militia of an ordinary village. Quickly gauging their positions she found she could easily bring six or even seven of them down. But, if they were well trained they would overwhelm her at last.

"What do you want?"

"You´ve been to my town and didn´t announce your presence. Strangers are to be registered. That´s law!" His voice still wanted to hitch with mutation. Though he managed to sound annoyed and a little angry, as if she had wounded his personal pride by not presenting herself to him at Blackthorne.

The Mord Sith tilted her head, still surrepticiously observing the men around her, considering her answer; then tried to keep her voice calm as she slowly retorted:

"I had just lost my way. I... apologize... if I hurt someone by leaving without saying hello."

The hint of scorn in her voice did not go unnoticed.

"Law says that you are to be registered. Profanity! ...will be punished."

"No offense meant."

He sneered. And thus looked like the boy he still was.

"Obviously you have no idea what an offense might be. Look at yourself! Only a slut would present herself in leathers that wrap so tightly around her curves. Are you?A slut?"

To her left a man snickered at his words. There lay an insolent deliberate provocation in his voice that caused heat rising in her chest. The heat of anger. But still she kept her calm demeanor, though her eyes narrowed into slits.

"Where I come from, one would know what these leathers mean. Though, I´ll bear with you; _boys_ like you often lack an adequate sophistication..." she almost purred, shifting and arranging herself with her back to the trees, so that the Quads were now at both her sides and their leader with his men in front of her.

His cheeks turned red. He glared at her and winked the men to dismount their horses with an irate voice:

"Take her!" His eyes raked over her body as he added: "But don´t kill her. I will show her... what being a slut means..." and with a short nod he released his waiting men...

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

They assailed her from three sides. Cara was quick as lightning, spinning around and dealing forceful blows with her agiel. Striking with a certainty that attested a unique fighting-experience, born from years after years filled with battles for the Lord Rahl. Her attackers hadn´t anticipated her skills, so their first rush inevitably led to their first losses: The one who tried to hit her arm with his sword yelled once in pain before he coughed blood and fell, her agiel pressing into his lungs until they burst. Turning around she kicked a second one into his chest, sending him flying into his pal who just tried to get a grip on her weapon-arm. She easily changed the agiel from her right hand to the left and swung it into the throat of a third attacker, felling him and quickly snatching his sword from his numb fist. It sparkled with the sun light reflecting from its blade as she swung it in a wild circle and forced her attackers to step back. They assaulted her again; though, not used to a weapon like hers, they seemed to not feel fear and most of them ran blindly into its humming bite. And where the agiel was not reaching far enough Cara knew how to handle the sword just as perfectly. She fought with ferocious resolve, knowing, in the end she would lose...

Soon she had six of her attackers lying at her feet; their dead eyes staring into the nothing, while the ground around her was soaked with their blood. Though she too had to pay tribute to the fight, panting heavily and bleeding from a wound at her temple.

Those who had felt her weapon´s touch for the first time and survived howled in pain and shock. And the cruel sneer on her lips, increasing with every blow she dealt, fueled their sudden caution as they slowed down and retreated a few steps to estimate their situation.

Impatiently the redhead forced them back into the fight:

"Won´t you dare to retreat. Get her I said! " His voice almost toppled into a screech. And his men followed his order, though, this time they charged her all at once. She had no chance. As she went down on her knee to stab one in his chest another managed to almost break her arm that swung the sword against his fellows. It clattered to the ground and Cara hissed in frustration. She knew she had lost...

She managed to kill two more before a massive blow to her head sent her dropping to the ground. Immediately two men were upon her, kicking into her rips and finally catching her arms and roughly wrenching them behind her back. She was pushed hard, lying flat on her belly and breathing in more dust than air.

_- Eight out of twelve... Damn you, Cara. Why couldn´t you just take them all... _

Panting she tried to turn her head and get a glimpse at the one who had fell her from behind. It was the young boy. A child. He held a club in hands that seemed to be larger than his own body and grinned proudly as the redhead patted his shoulder.

"Well done, soldier!"

The Mord Sith closed her eyes in annoyance.

A child! ...Bringing a Mord Sith down.

This world had changed, indeed!

She coughed and spit blood, uncertain if she had bitten the inside of her cheeks or if it were from somewhere deeper in her chest. It felt like the ladder, though perhaps that was just because they had kicked her a bit too often. Another thin rivulet of blood trickled down her temple. Cara huffed.

The thought crossed her mind that it would have been smart to stay with that Confessor and her pet...

"Let me through!"

Their young leader shove his remaining men aside and, turning her around so he might look into her eyes, he stood above her and leered down at her. A brief hiss escaped her lips when he too kicked her once, but her eyes burnt with disdain as she looked up at him.

"Well done, indeed! Lost eight men against _one slut_... I was right before. Now you´ve proved you´re just a little boy, playing a grown-up soldier." Her laughter dripped with scorn. And some more blood.

His eyes shot angry sparks. And she watched as wrath turned his icy glare into sheer blood lust. He grabbed the club from the boy´s hands and as he hauled off Cara sighed, knowing for certain that this strike was meant to smash her head, that it would shatter her whole existence...

Time slowed down as Cara stared at the club in his hands, watching with fascination as it swung upwards, preparing for the final blow. She couldn´t have averted her eyes if she had tried, knowing this was the last she would see. There was no room for thinking. There was no room for feeling. Except for feeling strangely aloof to the fact that her life would end.

Now.

And here.

The club just reached its highest point, pausing for a heartbeat before it would swing down on her and, holding her breath, she briefly wondered how it would feel to die for good; with no chance to be brought back by the breath of life...

And then suddenly there was a flash of white rushing past her; followed by the sudden impact of a thunder with no sound. Falling back into reality Cara ground her teeth against that brief nausea that appeared and then swept away. Looking up there was the Mother Confessor, standing tall and with her hand wrapped around the redhead´s throat, holding him tight in her grip. His eyes had flooded with darkness and he shivered, before dropping to his knees, dedication in his wide, astonished eyes, overwhelmed with the sensation of utter love and devotion. She heard him murmuring: "Command me, Mistress!"

The moment the Confessor raised her voice the blonde started breathing again. And though she rasped the words breathlessly, Cara found it were the most worldshaking words she had ever heard.

"Fight them!"

And while the redhead immediately gripped his sword to fight his own men the woman turned and looked down at her with a deep frown, thoroughly estimating the Mord Sith´condition before reaching a hand out to help her up.

"Are you hurt?"

"My pride is. The rest of me is ready to fight."

Breathing heavily Kahlan nodded and in that same heartbeat Cara sprang to her side, causing Kahlan to jerk back appalled, before realizing the Mord Sith blocked a sword that came down on her from behind. The man at the other side of it lost his life as Cara´s agiel shattered his heart with a firm twist to his chest; and while his body slumped to the ground Kahlan raised her gaze from him to look into the blonde´s eyes, who stood close and, wearing a smug, satisfied grin turned back to her.

"Thank you!" Kahlan breathed, and all of a sudden a wide smile appeared on her face. A smile so shockingly bright, and of a beauty as Cara had never seen one before, that the blonde felt it wiping her grin from her lips, leaving her agape. Shortly there was a twitch in Cara´s eyes while a deep frown blossomed on her face.

Seeing the Mord Sith somehow dismayed really intrigued the Confessor, wondering what had caused that change in her expression. But she never received an answer, since Haron appeared at her side, shoving the redhead into sight and wheezing:

"They are all dead. This one is the last?"

Her eyes on Cara, still wondering what she had said to upset the blonde, the Confessor waved her hand; almost reluctantly she turned around... - right in time to see Haron drop to the ground unconsciously, while the young redhead pulled a knife out of his body. Gasping, Kahlan stood frozen for a heartbeat, then rushed to him, bending down and shaking him slightly.

"Haron? Dear Creator! What happened? HARON?"

Her hands were stained with blood as she pulled them back and she closed her eyes and swallowed, shaking her head and bracing herself.

"No, Haron, you are not! _allowed_ to die! Do you hear me? Stay alive! I demand it!"

Behind her the redhead had fallen to his knees, staring at her in confusion.

"Mistress? Please, Mistress, will you forgive me? All I wanted was to please you. You said fight them...I thought I was to kill all of them. I´m sorry, Mistress, I didn´t know he belonged to you..."

His whining grew as Kahlan ignored him; until Cara shove him aside and bent beside the Confessor. With schooled hands she ripped Haron´s shirt open and leaned closer to examine the wound.

"It´s deep. I don´t think something vital is damaged but he loses to much blood."

She shook her head and looked at the Confessor. Who, without a second thought, ripped a strip from the seem of her dress, winding it into a small ball and reaching out to press it to the wound in Haron´s side. The blonde Mord Sith watched her with a frown and finally rose, again shaking her head.

"I don´t think that necessary, Confessor. Even if he survives, we can´t wait for him to heal. Better we leave him behind..."

She meant what she said. After all, today had shown it was smarter to not be alone in this world. And as much as she disliked Confessors in general, she had to admit that the Mother Confessor was a notable woman. She was willing to continue the journey together with her.

But she wouldn´t waste her time waiting for her pet to heal. She still felt the urge to get to the People´s Palace as quick as possible.

Though, apparently that notable woman didn´t share her opinion, because she spun around to face her with a scowl.

"You want to leave him behind? To die in _your_ place?" Her voice was an irate growl.

"He just helped. To save _your_ life! You owe him that much! It would suit you well to at least show a hint of sympathy!"

A reprimand from anyone other then the Lord Rahl was nothing Cara appreciated. And nothing she had experienced, not in the past 10 years. And that the Mother Confessor dared to rebuke her openly fanned the flames of her anger immediately.

"No one... _saved_ _me_! Actually..." she glared from narrowed eyes.

"Actually it was _me_ who saved _your_ life just a few seconds ago!"

Staring at her in disbelief Kahlan found herself reduced to silence; she closed her eyes and swallowed. Not willing to engage into this argument.

Wordlessly she turned towards Haron again and pressed the fabric to the wound, grinding her teeth.

"Leave if you want. Go! _I_ will stay and help him."

She didn´t see the eye-roll the blonde sported while huffing loudly. Pointing at the unconscious man.

"What´s wrong with you, Confessor? He´s not even suffering! You confessed him, forgotten? He´s just a hollow shell! He died the moment _you_ laid hands on him."

Kahlan slowly breathed in and out. Nodding twice, before murmuring.

"Yes, it´s my fault. I know that! And that´s just one more reason why I will not leave him behind..."

The blonde frowned, dumbfound, watching the Confessor pressing her lips into a thin line. And then she realized: That was guilt she felt!

The Mother Confessor felt guilty for confessing a man and stealing his soul!

Her frown deepened as she beheld the brunette. This woman was stark mad.

Why would a Confessor regret her deeds? Or feel guilty? When it was reasonable to confess a man who tried to kill you; or if only to achieve answers from his confessed mind when answers were needed? Confessors had been given that gift for reasons, so why not use it to their advantage? Where was the point in feeling guilty for something that was of avail for them?

She had known other Confessors before; many of them had tried to confess her or her sisters. Lord Rahl had lost a couple Mord Sith to their gift, never wasting a second thought to their deaths. None of these women had ever shown a feeling of regret for killing a Mord Sith or taking the soul of a man of the Dragon Corps. As none of her sisters had ever regret killing a Confessor... It was how their life was, what kept them alive: killing before been killed. Confessing before losing a fight...

This. Was ridiculous. She wouldn´t join such folly.

Her jaw tightening Cara felt her anger taking over.

And she was already ready to turn her back to them and leave, when Kahlan shifted and gave her a look.

Her shadowed blue gaze briefly swept over the Mord Sith before locking with her angry green stare; and, while frowning and scowling, ... somehow Cara felt something burning deep in her chest; she wasn´t able to escape the resigned, crestfallen expression she saw in her gaze. Though she tried.

But, fascinated by the vulnerability and puzzled by her own reaction to these eyes, she finally gave in, reached for her agiel and approached the Confessor where she sat at Haron´s side.

Dropping back to her knees she shoved her aside.

"We need to stop the bleeding." she grunted. "Maybe that will help him enough to survive..."

And with a quick and forceful twist she pressed her weapon into Haron´s wound. The stench of scorching flesh ascended as with a hissing sound the agiel burnt its mark into the man.

Kahlan had retreated a little to allow Cara to do what was needed. Swallowing against the fetidness she watched the Mord Sith, her brows knitted. Puzzled by the sudden change in her behavior...

Just a moment before she had been sure that the woman was about to leave. When she had looked up and had seen her face there had been incomprehension, impatience and rage written all over her features...

And now she knelt there, helping a man that, she had made clear, was not worth being helped.

Kahlan´s gaze went soft as the blonde rose and scowled at her. A shy smile played on her lips and she, too, rose to her feet.

"Thank you, Cara."

t.b.c.


End file.
